


36.7 Degrees Celsius

by usabuns



Category: DARLING In The FRANXX (Anime)
Genre: During the Episode 16 Breakfast Scene, Extended Scene, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff without Plot, Hand Feeding, Missing Scene, Sickfic, Spoilers (i guess)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 19:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usabuns/pseuds/usabuns
Summary: She gasps quietly and quickly retracts her hand. The spoon would’ve fallen, had Zero Two’s grip not been securely fastened around the cool metal. “—Ah, you’re still recovering, so you should take it easy.”Ikuno finally whips her head around to face Zero Two, blinking, but her expression isn’t one of anger or fear; Ikuno’s face is strangely calm given the situation. “I’m not so weak that I can’t feed myself, you know—“Or, an extension of the breakfast scene in Episode 16.





	36.7 Degrees Celsius

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jianbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jianbird/gifts).



> another gift for michie because i kept getting lazy and not writing it until now. 
> 
> i love being in rarepair hell.

The breakfast table is relatively quiet after the initial chit-chat, replaced by yawns and chewing—and then with Miku rattling off idle gossip to whoever will listen (Kokoro, mostly, who also responds genuinely a few times as she eats). 

But Ikuno hardly listens. She’s too preoccupied with tuning out the dull throbbing that’s making her mind swirl. And the sheen of sweat on her forehead, and the way her nape feels sticky and warm... Her fever might be mostly gone, but the effects are residual. For the next couple of days, at least. 

She’s learning to deal with it. It’s not that bad, comparatively, to what she’d had to deal with earlier in the week. 

It’s _annoying_ , though. Ikuno wishes they had access to medicine, so at least then she’d be able to actually _think_ properly. She can’t even _read_ feeling this worn out, which is probably what bothers her the most about this whole “child fever” thing. 

Ikuno sighs a little bit too loudly as she grabs two rectangular crackers and crumbles them right onto her tray square filled with chunky soup. Is it supposed to be soup? It’s hard to tell. Most of the rations are difficult to put food names to, unsurprisingly. 

She raises her spoon and breathes again, leaning her elbow against the tabletop and resting her hand mid-air. Her eyes close and she breathes again. 

...Miku says something about bathing in the lake later, then Kokoro spouts something about how fun that would be, but then— “Ikuno?” 

The blur of conversations and words suddenly stop, and Ikuno’s senses are crystal clear. 

Ichigo is staring at her from across the table (eyebrows creased with worry) when Ikuno finally snaps back to reality and looks up. “You’re sure you’re feeling well enough to be out of bed?” she asks, eyes unmoving. 

The spoon trembles in Ikuno’s hand, but her expression remains blank and unchanged. “I’m still a bit exhausted, that’s all.” It’s true, but she purposefully declined to mention her headache, and backache, and... Ikuno offers up a small smile as she pushes the thoughts aside. “It’s bearable, Ichigo. Don’t worry.” 

Ichigo nods curtly, and Ikuno’s about to shift her full focus back onto eating her food when she swears she sees—out of the corner of her eye—Zero Two shift in her direction. 

Ikuno doesn’t turn to look, doesn’t even bat an eyelash, but somewhere deep down she knows Zero Two is urging closer for a reason. Maybe she has an inkling of an idea of what that reason is, but instead she just swallows her spit. 

_This is fine, this is okay_. A light pink blush warms up Ikuno’s cheeks, even as she continues staring at her tray like nothing’s wrong. 

Ikuno’s hand doesn’t move. Her elbow stays angled against the table like it’s glued there, still clean and pristine. Ikuno feels Zero Two staring, looking, _waiting_. The feeling makes her skin prickle. After a moment, Ikuno feels soft fingers gently clasping her hand. 

She gasps quietly and quickly retracts her hand. The spoon would’ve fallen, had Zero Two’s grip not been securely fastened around the cool metal. “—Ah, you’re still recovering, so you should take it easy.” 

Ikuno finally whips her head around to face Zero Two, blinking, but her expression isn’t one of anger or fear; Ikuno’s face is strangely calm given the situation. “I’m not so weak that I can’t feed myself, you know—“ 

Zero Two reaches her other hand out and presses one finger to Ikuno’s lips. She smiles brightly, genuinely, _cutely_. “No, I insist. You said you’re still exhausted, right?” Ikuno can’t deny it, she’d just said it in front of all the girls. “Just relax.” 

Ikuno watches every single one of Zero Two’s motions with a keen eye—maybe too closely, too carefully. Every action is scrutinized, because Ikuno really wants to take her mind off what’s happening. 

Her eyes widen when Zero Two lifts a spoonful of the mud-colored soup (is it soup or stew?) up, poising it in front of her mouth. Ikuno blinks, and shuffles in her seat. She tilts her head and is met with the gaze of a wide-grinning Zero Two—and she finds herself not wishing Ichigo was on the other end holding the spoon. 

The feeling eases her heart but makes it race at the same time. 

”Come on, open up,” coos Zero Two, and Ikuno’s lips part wide, all too accepting. “This’ll help you feel much better.” 

Zero Two lifts three more spoons filled with soup to Ikuno’s lips, and she swallows them each time. The broth, even though it looks pretty gross, tastes good enough that she doesn’t gag. It’s warm when it slides down her throat and it rests at the bottom of her stomach comfortably. 

The others had been watching; of course they had. Miku clears her throat and raises her glass of water to her mouth. “You’ve gone soft, Zero Two.” 

Across from her, Kokoro giggles softly. Even Ichigo laughs a little, covering her mouth with her hand and eating the tiny chocolate bar. 

”Th-Thanks,” Ikuno says (if only to break the weird tension), fingers pinching the edges of her collar. Is ‘anxiety’ the feeling? Most likely. Ikuno shifts her body so it’s turned toward Zero Two completely, and lets out another deep breath. “But I prefer the biscuits more.” 

It’s hard to say she likes one bland ration over the other, but Ikuno doesn’t know what to say. Why does she feel so flustered again? 

Zero Two herself laughs sweetly, and picks up one of the thick, powdery biscuit sticks. She takes the honey packet and rips it open, drizzling it on just like she’d done with her own earlier. 

”Alright, say ‘aahh.’” 

Ikuno just stares for a beat, gaze flickering between Zero Two and the biscuit. Then Zero Two, then the biscuit again. 

She leans forward slightly and takes a small bite. Then another, and another one. The biscuit is plain but the honey is almost sickly sweet; the combination is surprisingly satisfying. 

”See? You’ll be healthy in no time,” chimes Zero Two, and Ikuno finally takes the last bite, her cheeks flushing. 

Zero Two leans in and runs her fingertip along Ikuno’s jawline, and Ikuno feels herself completely melt into it without an ounce of protest in her. Then Zero Two puts her hand on her waist, pulling her close, and presses a kiss right onto Ikuno’s lips. Their foreheads touch, cool skin against warm, and Ikuno’s fingers reach for Zero Two’s shoulder, pawing at the burgundy fabric. 

When Zero Two pulls back (a little too soon for Ikuno’s liking), there’s drips of honey and a few biscuit crumbs dotting her lips, but those same lips are pulled up into a cheeky smile. “Ah, that’s good. You’re still 36.7 degrees.”


End file.
